


Debt

by AnnDerry



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Birmingham, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Family Drama, Finn Shelby - Freeform, Gambling Den, Gangster Romance, In debt to Tommy Shelby, Inspired By Peaky Blinders, Midland Hotel, Proposition, Romance, Saving her family, Series 4ish, Showing Tommy another way, Smart Heroine, Standing up to the Peaky Blinders, Tommy's Office, Watery Lane, bookmakers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:14:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29051202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnDerry/pseuds/AnnDerry
Summary: To save her family from ruin, Eloise Wainwright must gain an audience with the most powerful man in Birmingham. That's her first challenge. The second will be getting him to listen to her. The third...well, that depends on how merciful Tommy Shelby is feeling.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/OC
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32





	1. Gatekeeper

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone is safe and well. How exciting is it that series 6 is being filmed!? Here is a new story to celebrate. I'll add more tags later.

I had changed my mind a hundred times before I forced myself to push open the heavy mahogany doors of Thomas Shelby’s grand office to step inside the building he owned in the middle of town. Even then I nearly turned back and fled back through them at the thought of what may await me. But I knew this was the only way to save my family. The only chance we had before the unthinkable happened. 

Four typists sitting at identical desks, studiously ignored me as they clicked away at the typewriter keys. The cloying scent of perfume competing for space hung in the air so thick you could almost see it through the blue haze of cigarette smoke. I took a pace or two towards the girl who sat nearest to the boss’s office. I knew her by sight, Lizzie, I think she was called. She was tall and slim with striking features. It was said that she was Mister Shelby’s particular female companion now that his wife was deceased. 

“Can I help you?” she said, looking me up and down. I automatically checked my appearance in the huge mirror behind her in case I had my hat on back to front or my dress buttoned up incorrectly. That would be no surprise given my agitated state, but I looked perfectly respectable in my best Sunday outfit. At least, I hoped I did. 

“I’d like an appointment with Mister Shelby please.” 

She looked at me suspiciously. “What’s the purpose of the appointment?” 

“It’s a personal matter,” I told her. That didn’t seem to go down well. 

“Mister Shelby doesn’t have time for any appointments today and anyway, he’s not here.” She inhaled a cigarette from an elegant holder and blew out a plume dismissively.

My shoulders slumped. This was the end. I’d failed at the first hurdle and couldn’t even get through Tommy Shelby’s gatekeeper. 

“Please…” I started to say before I was interrupted by the sound of a man entering the office. I recognised him at once from his loud, jeering voice. Arthur Shelby. 

Arms outstretched as he strode bombastically through the reception like he owned it, toward Lizzie and I. “Ladies!” he exclaimed. “All looking lovely as usual.” 

He stopped next to me and addressed Lizzie, jerking his thumb towards the frosted glass windows of the Gang Boss’s lair embossed with ‘Shelby Company Ltd’. “Is Tom in his office?”

Lizzie looked sheepishly from him to me then nodded. I shot her a filthy glance. Lying cow. 

Arthur then noticed me. “Oh, are you next love?”

“Well…um…I think so yes.” 

“Tell you what,” he said. “I need ten minutes with my brother, then you can go in after. Alright, if I jump ahead?” 

I was hardly going to say no to the maniacal Arthur Shelby so I smiled sweetly and told him I didn’t mind in the slightest. After all, if it wasn’t for him, I’d still be arguing with the receptionist from hell. Now I was guaranteed to have an audience with the most powerful man in Birmingham. 

“Pretty aren’t you?” he boomed. “She might cheer Tommy up, eh Lizzie?” he exclaimed. Lizzie’s face was like thunder. “What’s your name, love? I’ll tell Tom that your next.” 

“Eloise Wainwright.” 

Lizzie huffed and returned to her work. “You can sit over there and wait,” she snapped, pointing to a red, leather Chesterfield. I didn’t even bother to reply as I stuck my nose in the air and sat primly on the squashy sofa. First battle won. 

Arthur winked at me and shouldered his way through the doors. As they slowly closed, I caught a glimpse of a huge desk, a flash of white shirt behind it and finally a pair of blue eyes trained on the doorway. A shot of apprehension doused my newly won confidence.

I wondered if Tommy Shelby had heard everything.


	2. Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next couple of chapters are part inspired by the scene in series 4 between Tommy and the mother of the boxer (who was sadly killed by Arthur).

The minutes ticked by ever so slowly on the grandfather clock opposite me. Now and then muffled voices could be heard from within the office beyond and I shuddered at what kind of gruesome deeds were being concocted between those walls. The same kind that may shortly befall my family if I was not successful. Finally, my moment arrived. Arthur Shelby came bowling out and held the door open for me. 

“In you go, love. If I were you,’ he said in a low voice, “I’d undo a few buttons and give him the benefit of that lovely smile. He’s more fucking grumpy than usual today.”

I didn’t really know how to respond so I just meekly said “thank you,” as he ushered me into Tommy Shelby’s office. The door slammed shut, making me jump. Absolute silence greeted me. The man I had come to see did not look up. He continued to write, signing paper after paper. I took a hesitant pace forward and thought I ought to announce myself.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mister Shelby.” 

He still did not look up. The only indication that he had heard me was a deep sigh and with a sweep of his arm, he pointed to one of the chairs at the foot of his desk. His voice was a low, barely audible growl. ‘Please take a seat, Miss?” 

“Wainwright, Eloise Wainwright, Sir,” I told him. At that point, he laid his silver fountain pen down and deigned to look upon me. Oh, my goodness, to be within six foot of the man was unnerving. His eyes were a light crystal blue. Priceless sapphires made all the more so by the contrast of the dark glossy hair that swept across his forehead. But I had to remember what danger he represented to my family. I gripped my purse tightly, resting it on my lap like an inadequate shield and feeling trapped in his gaze. 

He cleared his throat. “What is it that you need, Miss Wainwright?” 

“It’s…about my Uncle, Sir.”

“Go on,” he told me as he flipped open an ornate tobacco box and took a cigarette out.

“Well, we had a visit from the Peaky Blinders yesterday. Three of them. They forced their way into our house and threatened....”

“Where do you live?” he asked, interrupting me as he lit his cigarette. The flame briefly illuminated his skin, highlighting a scar on his cheek from one of his many battles. 

“36 Oxenhope Street,” I answered. 

He looked thoughtful as he exhaled a plume of smoke. “One of my streets of back-to-back housing. Therefore, my men have every right to enter any of those houses under my jurisdiction. That makes me your landlord.”

“They are going to take his eyes,” I cried. “Tomorrow, at six o’clock, if he doesn’t pay what he owes to your gambling den!” 

The bastard looked totally unconcerned as he raised his perfect eyebrows at me. “Sweetheart, if a man owes money to me, they understand the consequences. Now, you tell your Uncle that sending you here to me was a big mistake. I don’t have time for this.”

“He didn’t send me. He begged me not to come.”

“I see. So, you thought you could reason with me, eh?”

“I…I just thought that if I explained, then you might give him some more time, Sir. I’ve heard of your kindness…” 

Tommy Shelby stared at me as he ran his thumb across his bottom lip, and I did my best to defiantly hold his gaze. Then he stood and walked around his desk to a cabinet where a cut-glass decanter of whiskey lay. I released the breath I was holding when he turned away to pour out two glasses of amber spirit. The back of his waistcoat was gold satin. Thin, supple leather straps crisscrossed his broad shoulders, like a grackle noseband on a bridle. But rather than a metal bit to guide a horse, the metal that the leather contained was a deadly weapon. I suddenly felt very afraid. 

He handed me a glass which I took despite the fact that I had never drunk spirits before. 

“So, explain then.”


	3. Buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, hope you are all having a great week and are safe and well. I cheer myself up with the thought that somewhere in the UK, Cillian is in costume Tommy Shelbying about :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading - comments welcome too... x

Tommy leant casually against his desk. I took a sip of the whiskey and coughed a little. It burned my throat and I wondered how anyone would drink it for pleasure. I tried to hide my grimace. He said nothing but the way his lips curved ever so slightly upward made me think he saw straight through me. 

“My uncle is a good man. He didn’t mean to get into debt with you, it just sort of happened.”

Tommy pursed his lips. “And yet he still got into debt. He’s no different to any other of my punters.” 

“No. He didn’t need the money for himself. Not to drink in your pubs. He needed the money because he took me and my two brothers in when we lost our parents last year. It’s been a terrible time.”

“What happened to your parents?”

I took another hit of whiskey before I answered and found that the spirit was growing on me. Each sip gave me courage. “Spanish flu,” I said bitterly. “We didn’t even get to say goodbye properly because we had to leave the house. My brothers are four and six. I had to take them away to keep them safe.” 

I swallowed down a lump of emotion. It could have been my imagination, but he seemed to take a deep breath when I talked about the disease and something like sadness flickered in his eyes. 

“So, you brought them to Birmingham?”

I nodded. My Yorkshire accent confirming my heritage. “My uncle agreed to look after us. He wanted to take the boys to the seaside in the summer and I turn twenty-one next week.”

“I expect he wanted to get you a present?”

This line of questioning was getting embarrassing, but I soldiered on. “Um...yes, perhaps.”

He took the seat next to me and smiled, though it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “What did you want, Eloise? For your birthday?”

The way my name rolled off his tongue shook me a little. His voice was low and sure. “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “A new dress or nice dinner somewhere.” 

He was silent for a few moments and I could tell he was contemplating his decision. At length, he spoke. “You are a brave girl coming here, conning your way past my secretaries to talk to me. I admire that.” 

Hope surged through me until he delivered his final assessment. 

“But you’re just giving me a fucking sob story. Everyone has a sob story, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do better than that.” 

I was too stunned by his cruel words. I stood up quickly, my purse falling to the floor as I shakily set the glass down on his desk. “Please, Mister Shelby. A few more days.” 

He got to his feet too and closed the space between us. When he was a mere foot away, he stroked his hand slowly down my arm. “There are times and places when I like to hear a woman beg and this is not one of them.”

I inhaled the scent of his expensive aftershave as he moved ever so close to me. My heart started to racket around in my chest as he fingered the top button of my dress. His blue eyes burned into mine. “I heard my brother tell you to undo a few of these buttons. You should have taken his advice. How much does your Uncle owe to me?” 

“T…Twenty pounds,” I whispered. 

“A fair sum. What if I was to say that you could wipe that debt out right now, eh?’

Cool air hit my skin as his fingers deftly took care of another two buttons. A small gasp escaped my lips as he caressed my bare skin. It would be so easy to let him continue. Such a simple solution to the problem that had given me many sleepless nights. His lips nuzzled into my neck and my body melted into his hard, strong frame. His breath ghosted the shell of my ear. 

“More than I usually pay for a whore but I’m feeling generous.”

Immediately, I pushed him away. What a fool I was. Gangster or not, rage at his overconfident presumption won over fear. My hand connected with his cheek. Hard. 

“I am not a whore and anyway it’s your fault that my uncle is in debt!”

To be fair to him, he took my assault with composure, touching his face slowly as if he could not believe I had the nerve to do it. The most feared man in Birmingham gave me a look tinged with respect. 

“My fault?” he replied with a laugh of derision. “How did you arrive at that conclusion?” 

Everything I really wanted to say to him but was too afraid to say earlier came tumbling out. 

“You encourage these poor men to gamble the wages they earn from your factories instead of putting food on the table for their families! You use trickery with horses, making them win and win so that they put more and more money on. Then you make the horses lose so you can collect all of their stake money. The men who run your gambling operation give out lines and lines of credit to those who can’t afford it. Encouraging them to gamble more. They chase their losses and then the worst of it is that when they can’t pay you back, you cut them, beat them, and blind them. Then they can’t work or pay your rent or provide for their families. It’s reprehensible.”

He watched me give this assessment with his hands in his pockets and a stern look on his handsome face. “You have strong opinions, Miss Wainwright. Opinions that are likely to get you into trouble someday. Have you finished?” 

I needed more whiskey, so I picked up the half-empty glass, drained it, and slammed it down with a bang on his desk. He raised his eyebrows. “No, actually. There’s more. What happens to the women and children that are turned out of their homes? What is going to happen to me and my brothers?”

He sighed and lit himself another cigarette, clearly holding his temper in check. He had so much self-control it was scary. “I have institutions for children without homes or family. I’m sure a place can be found if required and perhaps I can offer you a place of work, although at the moment you are testing my patience.” 

“Fuck you and fuck your sham institutions,” I told him hotly. “A front of respectability. That’s all they are. You use them to pretend that you are good person but you’re not are you? It’s all a lie!”

This time I knew I had overstepped the mark. He picked up my purse and handed it to me. The coldness of his voice as he dismissed me from his office chilled my blood. 

“Six o'clock tomorrow. Good day, Miss Wainwright.”


	4. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd have a go at writing from Tommy's point of view in this chapter. :)

It wasn’t that he particularly wanted to have the girl. It was just because he could. He remembered telling John, Arthur and Polly that once. After John had cut Angel Changretta and started a war with the Italians. Tommy had ordered Arthur and John to take two Italian pubs that night. When Polly threw her hands up in the air and asked him why, he shouted, “Because we can! And if we can, we do!”. Poor John. He missed his younger brother deeply. John was a good boy deep down. Tommy knew how different his family’s life would have been had he not had this ruthless ambition to drive them all out of poverty. But it had come at a price.

Lizzie had seen the goodness in John. Loyal Lizzie thought Tommy bitterly. Sitting outside his office right now burning for him. And all he would give her was the occasional fuck and financial security. She would have been better off marrying John, but Tommy had put a stop to that. Sometimes, he wondered why he had done it. Lizzie would be fuming now at the sight of the pretty girl fleeing from his office with half of her dress buttons undone.

He didn’t feel guilty about what he had offered the girl. If he went soft on every charity case, he would never have made his fortune or kept his terrifying reputation. She had enough pride to push him away when he insulted her, but he had also felt her pulse bound under his lips as he brushed them along the delicate column of her throat. She wanted him. He was convinced of that. The way her body softened as his fingers played against her bare skin convinced him. If he had not been so flippant, then their little tryst would have solved her problem quickly and neatly.

Now, he would have to deal with her outburst to keep his reputation intact. Idly he imagined ordering his men to drag her out of her little back-to-back house to deliver her to him at his mansion, Arrow House. He could make her want him again and take her so ruthlessly, she would never dare to speak to him like that again. If Polly heard about that, she’d probably slap him harder than the girl had. Tommy Shelby knew he was many things, but he wasn’t that sort of man. No matter how tempting the thought of her submitting to his every whim. Nevertheless, something needed to be done about Miss Eloise Wainwright. 

The annoying thing was that maybe she had a point and her bravery and eloquence under pressure had piqued his interest. Ten long years had passed since he and his brothers had returned from France to build their empire by intimidation and razorblade. The world was a different place. Tommy was now a man of substance. A member of parliament. He’d let Finn run the bookmaking operation to cut his teeth in Shelby Company and give him a purpose. Finn had been around the business all his young life so it stood to reason that he would continue to run it how it had always been done, with the ruthless ferocity of youth. The lad had always looked up to him, wanted to emulate him. Perhaps it was time to check in at the gambling den and pay a visit to his younger brother.


	5. Twenty Pounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's outfits in the next two chapters are based on the series six costumes in Portsoy. Just gorgeous. Please let me know if you are enjoying this story - comments welcome :)

Only when I reached my bedroom did I give way to tears. Mortifying embarrassment mixed with pure frustration seeped into my skin much like the rain that had descended in a deluge as I ran out of Tommy Shelby’s office eager to put as much space between us as quickly as possible. I tore my wet clothes off, hating that I burnt with a raging heat caused by his touch. I tossed and turned that night, drowning in deep blue eyes. In my tormented dreams, the weight of the blankets replicated his body pressed hard against mine. I didn’t push him away, but we continued our verbal battle in a much more intimate and sensual way. I awoke groggy and tired. The whiskey that had made me so lightheaded now weighted my eyelids as if they were made of lead. Damn Tommy Shelby.

My uncle and I spent most of the morning looking grimly at each other and keeping the children from noticing that anything was wrong. Just before he left to take them to school and trudge to the factory where he worked. I pleaded with him. “Uncle, don’t go to the factory today. Come back here, I’ll take the day off too and we can work out how to resolve this situation.”

“If you lose your job and I can’t work then where will we be?” he said. “I’ll see you tonight, El.” I wanted to blurt out that he would not be able to see tomorrow but didn’t because my two little brothers were tugging at his coat sleeves, eager to be off.

***

Bang. Bang. Bang. The thud of a heavy fist on our front door caused a stone to drop in the pit of my stomach. I looked desperately at my Uncle across the small kitchen table then at the wall clock that had just struck six. He was clutching his mug of tea so hard that his knuckles were white. My younger brothers were playing with their wooden cars, vrooming them across the floor to each other in blissful ignorance of the horror that was about to unfold.

“Uncle, please leave,’ I urged. “Flee through the back door. I will delay them.”

My uncle shook his head sadly. “No, El. I’ll not run like a coward. This is my home. Let them in love and hide with the boys. I need to face up to what I have done.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” I insisted. “I’ll give them bloody Peaky Blinders a piece of my mind.”

Bang. Bang. Bang, went the impatient fist on the front door again. I ran to it before my uncle could stop me and flung it open. “Can’t you wait, you absolute bloody monsters….’ I started to yell. My words caught in my throat as there, standing on the doorstep, flanked by two huge mean looking Peaky Blinders was Tommy Shelby himself.

“Evening, Miss Wainwright,” he said smoothly as he tipped his hat to me, deliberately bringing my attention to the gleaming razor blade that nestled in the peak of the dark grey cap. He’d come to do the deed himself. To punish me.

I stepped back in shock and he strode past me into the kitchen where my uncle waited looking pale but stoic. Tommy glanced around the room taking everything in. I was glad that I had cleaned up the tea things and scrubbed all the surfaces with lemon disinfectant. The last thing I wanted was for him to think we lived slovenly. We needed to keep some pride intact.

“Hello Mister Shelby,” said my uncle in a shaky voice.

“Mister Wainwright,” said Tommy grimly, nodding at him.

Tommy glanced at my younger brothers who were gazing up at him in awe. He certainly was a sight to behold in our small functional kitchen. He and his men filled the tiny space. Immaculately turned out in a grey charcoal three-piece suit, with a heavy felt collared overcoat and a grey cashmere scarf, he radiated wealth and power. “Alright boys?” he said to them. “Nice cars.”

“Don’t you dare speak to them,” I hissed, not able to stop myself.

“Niece, please,” pleaded my uncle. “Take the children upstairs and stay there.”

Tommy swung round to look at me. His overcoat swished open to display a dark crimson silk lining. I hated myself for finding him attractive. “Listen to your uncle, Eloise,” he purred. “Take the boys upstairs but you come straight back.” His gaze rested on my figure for a fraction too long and I felt myself flushing. I still had my flour covered apron on from my shift at the bakery in the Bull Ring. A job that I had recently taken to help make ends meet.

I saw the shock on my uncle’s face. “How does he know your name, El?” he asked desperately as I ushered the boys out of the room. “Did you go to see him? Is that why he is here?”

“I’m sorry, uncle. I thought I could help,” I said miserably as I ushered the boys out of the room and shooed them up the stairs bidding them to stay up there and cover their ears.

“Please, Mister Shelby,’ my uncle implored. “My niece is bold, but she means well. She has nothing to do with this. Please let her be.”

Tommy reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “Oh, she has everything to do with this, Mister Wainwright. She made it her business.” He lit his cigarette and waited for me to return to the room before he spoke again. “You owe me some money, I’m told.” He gave the briefest glance at his men who advanced toward my uncle and pulled him forward by an arm each, so he was a mere two feet away from their fierce gang boss.

“I do, Mister Shelby. I’m sorry. I’ll have it in a few weeks.”

Tommy ignored him. “I’ve seen you before. You work at one of my factories, I think?”

“You think,” I scoffed. “You know you he works for you. Why ask?”

Tommy glanced at me and narrowed his beautiful eyes. “You are playing with fire, Eloise.”

My uncle’s face implored me to be quiet so huffed out a frustrated sigh and crossed my arms. Tommy reached into his coat and retrieved a stack of banknotes. I had never seen so much money. Hundreds and hundreds of pounds. It was sickening. He peeled one off and held it in front of my uncle’s face.

“Twenty pounds, Mister Wainwright. That’s what you owe me,” said Tommy. He slammed it down on the kitchen table with such a bang that even his men jumped. “As you can imagine, twenty pounds means fucking nothing to me.” He paused and threw his cigarette butt out of the still open front door before continuing. It glowed on the dark pavement outside. He gestured to the note on the table. “So, I want you to have this money and use it to take those two little boys to the seaside in summer.”

At this point his men released the hold they had on my uncle and he collapsed into a kitchen chair, looking up at Tommy Shelby in shock as he spoke again. “You are banned from my gambling establishments, but you’ll find some extra wages in your envelope at the end of every week as you now have a family to feed.”

With that final announcement, he turned on his heel and strode out of our house followed by his men before either of us could say a word. My little brothers who had been listening on the stairs despite my instructions otherwise came running in, shouting jubilantly that “we’re going to the seaside,” and jumping on my uncle’s lap who was holding up the twenty-pound note in disbelief, as if it might disappear at any moment.

I needed to say something to Tommy Shelby, I wasn’t sure what, but I needed to catch up with him before he left so I ran out of the kitchen into the street. One of his men was holding the door of his silver Bentley open for him to step into. “Mister Shelby,” I called breathlessly.

Tommy turned and before I knew what I was doing, I had leant up and kissed him on the cheek. His face was warm and I inhaled his expensive but subtle cologne. As I pulled away, I found his hands resting gently on my waist. His expression was puzzled. I shrank back but he still held on to me. My heart kicked up a notch as I recalled how his fingers had felt on my bare skin just a few hours ago. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve taken a liberty with you. I just wanted to say… thank you.”

Tommy smiled. “You might not believe it, Eloise but I’d much rather receive a kiss from a beautiful girl given willingly.”

I grinned at his endearment. “I’m sorry if I misjudged you. You are kind really.”

“Hmmn, that’s open to debate sweetheart, but I admire anyone who goes to great lengths to protect their family. That’s worth more than twenty pounds.”

He let go of me and I stepped backward, getting the hint that he needed to depart. “Take care of those boys, and yourself.” He tipped his hat to me, took his seat and I watched him drive away kicking myself for not asking if I would ever see him again.


End file.
